


Scars, Cuts, and Scabs

by Shari_was_here



Category: Original Work
Genre: Deaf Character, Death, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:00:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shari_was_here/pseuds/Shari_was_here
Summary: This is my first piece of publish work that I wrote years ago and am currently in the process of lengthening and improving. Constructive criticisms and tips appreciated.Her Brother is dead and her hearing is taken from her all in the blink of an eye and the sound of screeching metal and breaking glass. Her grief overwhelms her and her parents seem like strangers.





	Scars, Cuts, and Scabs

I keep my eyes focused on my hands as I played with my brothers old leather bracelet, I hated sitting in the hospital waiting room, just like I hated receiving looks of pity from the people at school. I'm deaf, the car crash left me deaf; so what? It left Mason dead. Why were my parents so worried about getting answers about whether I would get my hearing back? At least I was alive. Wasn't that enough? Having to sit in this stark white waiting room, day in day out was not worth getting my hearing back and it wasn't like I was going to let anyone put hearing aids on me, wasn't that clear either? I would have thought me kicking the doctor and having to be held down when they tried to put them on me last time was a clear enough NO. I didn't want my hearing back anyway, not if I wasn't going to be able to listen to my brother tell me stories ever again.

The music had been blaring as Mason sped down the freeway, laughing at my shrieks of fear at how fast we had been going. We had been laughing loudly, grinning, and just enjoying having fun together before he had to leave for university. We had been too caught up in our own fun; neither of us had seen the drunk driver swerve into our lane; at least not until it was too late. Mason swerved just before the other guy had hit us. It hadn't helped; instead, it had forced most of the impact to collide with Mason's side of the car, he was dead on impact. I remember the car spinning out and I think we must have flipped a few times, I recall the feeling of smashing my head on the roof of the car, and blood starting to drip down my face. My next memory is of waking up and feeling dizzy as someone was trying to haul me out of the wreckage. I remember the feeling in my throat as I screamed my lungs out when I caught sight of Mason's body, of how it was so bloody and broken, I remember fighting the person who was holding me, twisting my body, ignoring the searing pain coursing through my body; trying with all the power I had left in me to get to Mason's side. I was terrified at the thought of being separated from my older brother, my rock. After that I had felt nothing, numbness took over my body. The lack of sound hadn't bothered me, the flashing lights and mass amounts of movement from people running around trying to help were overwhelming enough. The paramedics hadn't taken much notice either; they had thought I was just in shock. It hadn't been until the next day when a nurse was trying to speak to me that they had taken notice that I was unresponsive to sounds, that I was deaf. The doctors couldn't figure out what had caused me to become deaf, nor could they figure out if it was temporary or permanent. My parents had been furious when I refused, to the point of lashing out and screaming when anyone attempted to put hearing aids on me or even touch my ears or head.

I looked up in the waiting room, my face void of emotion as the door in front of me opened to reveal my doctor looking down on me. He smiled kindly as he gestured for me to enter the office. Standing up I walked into the office, I kept my head down and my hands in my pockets as I eyed the single empty seat between both my parents. I reluctantly took my seat starting to bounce my leg as I watched the doctor collect the things he would need to redress the wounds on my arms; they had already re-taped my broken ribs and taken a new x-ray of my wrist. I chose to very easily ignore my parent's attempts at comforting me, shrugging my mother's hands off my shoulder when she tried to rub my back. Out of the corner of my eye I see my mother's grimace and my father's clenched hands as the doctor unwinds the bandages from my arms and my hand to reveal the ugly jagged cuts, scrapes, and bruises that will eventually fade and turn into scars. _Scars that will forever torment me and remind me of how quickly happiness can be torn away and be replaced with tragedy and numbness, and how abruptly a person's life can end._


End file.
